A Shade Darker than Black
by maneatingbananas
Summary: Learning that the twins are missing, Aragorn desperately searches for his brothers with the help of an old friend. But what he hopes to be a simple mission turns into a race against time and a journey of acceptance and rekindled frienship. please R&R!


**A Shade Darker than Black**

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Disclaimer: I don't own the wondrous world of lord of the rings

Note: Hey guys! It's been 3 or 4 long years since I've written on this account and I've missed it so much. I did post for a little while under id Blackmagic13 so if you want to check out a few one-shots I worked on then go for it! But I would like to say that reviews are very much welcome and appreciated but I don't tolerate flames. Lastly I wish everyone a Merry Christmas wherever you may be and a wonderful New Year!

_"Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same." ~Flavia Weedn_

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It was silent, absolutely quiet, and yet Aragorn felt he was about to die-although he had never imagined it ending this way. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as wildly as a windstorm and every sense tingled with frantic desire to supply him with a flow of new information in order to aid his survival. He resisted these primitive urges to flee, to attack, to simply move. A foolish movement or any movement for that matter probably spelled out certain death. He tried to ignore the bite of the drawn back arrow poking into his neck and think of a plan, but yet as he stared down at his worn leather gloves in silent desperation, he couldn't help losing his urgent thought process to the beautiful, tiny flakes of snow beginning to drift lazily into the air and settle softly into the snow at his feet…

"_Why have you been following me?"_

The words were cold, demanding and fierce, leaving no room for a subjective answer but yet the appealing and melodious lilt of the elf's voice could not be covered by his harsh tone. This new information enforced Aragorn's decision not to try to overpower his attacker. If he had taken away a single lesson from his childhood spend in Imladris it was that although not unsusceptible to trickery or mortal wounds, an elf was never to be underestimated. Yet he did not recognize the cold voice and it took all of his willpower for Aragorn to not turn and seek the elf's identity by the memory of his eyes. Appalled at the helpless situation he was now in, he silently cursed himself for being so unobservant and foolish.

He had been tracking footprints in the snow for nearly two days now. The prints which were barely indentations upon the glittering snow's surface had clearly belonged to an elf, since no other creature in Middle Earth that Aragorn was aware of was capable of treading on top of the snow. As he trudged along, barely able to discern the prints from the snow around them, he had sincerely hoped that the footprints were those of either Elladan or Elrohir, his twin foster brothers, sons of Lord Elrond of Imladris, who had been reported missing for nearly a month and a half now. The Lord and Lady of Lothlorien had received a worried letter from Lord Elrond, inquiring knowledge of the whereabouts of his sons and pleading that patrols were sent to search for them within the Golden Wood.

Aragorn had been at Caras Galadhorn himself when the messenger bearing the letter arrived, and the news had instantly lit fear in his heart for his elven brothers. The twins were expert warriors, hunters and trackers and they had taught him most everything he knew. It seemed unfathomable that they could be in danger when he knew how skilled they were, yet the black shadows of Sauron's dominion had been crawling from the muddy caves and inky holes from whence they had come. Emboldened by successful campaigns against poorly organized men and desperate for resources and evil to sedate their needs, the shadows of the world were on the rise and it was no longer as safe. This disconcerting revelation had compelled Aragorn to join the search for his missing foster brothers and he hoped with all his heart that they were safe somewhere. He had left early the next day to scour the numerous orc caves notoriously peppering the Misty Mountains for any sign of his brothers. For three days he had fruitlessly wandered the side of the mountain, slowly making his way towards the summit and constantly searching for any sign that his brothers had been there. He had happened upon the footprints a few days ago and had begun following his only sparse lead. The elf he was following, which clearly was not Elladan or Elrohir, must have quickly realized of his pursuit and doubled back behind him, concealing himself in an outcropping of snowcapped boulders and silently slipping behind him as he walked by...

"Is your hearing truly so dull that you cannot hear my voice, _edain_?" The bowstring groaned with a flicker of increased tension.

The sound of the elf's voice snapped Aragorn back into reality. "Please forgive me," He said evenly and calmly. "I mean no harm towards you."

"What are you doing out here?" The elf demanded, jabbing the back of Aragorn's neck with the point of his arrow as if to remind Aragorn it was still there and still very capable of what it was made for. "Humans never venture out on the pass in these conditions."

"I am looking for two of your kind," Aragorn said, still keeping his voice measurably clipped. "That is why I followed your footprints. I believed it to be one of them."

There was a slight pause as the elf absorbed this information. "Why should I believe you?" He hissed. "All the humans I have discovered have hurt my people in some way. The greed of your kind consumes this land."

Veiled beneath the anger in the elf's voice Aragorn detected something else; fear, worry, strain, perhaps?

Slowly, Aragorn raised his empty hands to the level of his head, staring out at the vast expanse of the white mountain that sloped up in front of him. "Im negro hoth nin." _I never hurt my people._

He heard the elf's sharp intake of breath and using the opportunity, he slowly turned to face the elf, the crunch of snow beneath his feet deafening as he kept his hands raised in surrender.

The pressure of the arrowhead jabbing into his neck suddenly disappeared and he turned in time to see the bow slip out of the of the elf's long pale fingers as shock and recognition slowly flooded into his vivid blue eyes; eyes that had remained unchanged for the span of forty seven long years…

"Estel…?" It was less of a question of identity and more of a question of permission, to bestow upon him the name of his childhood, of a time when life was simpler not only for him, but for all beings dwelling in Middle Earth.

And Aragorn looked back at his old friend; the sight of his distinctive appearance a rarely preserved clarity in the dim memory of his childhood. He recognized the blond hair trussed back in distinctive warrior braids, the vivid blue eyes as clear as a sunlit pool of water but his adult mind shed insight to characteristics that his young mind had been unable to absorb or understand; the elf's rough and callused fingers from centuries of drawing a bowstring, the shadow of princely responsibility in his eyes... All of this information was observed by Aragorn's trained mind in a matter of moments and suddenly the realization of how many years had slipped away since Aragorn had exiled himself to become a ranger fully dawned on him.

Stunned, he nodded at Legolas, still awaiting his confirmation and a sorrowful smile broke upon the elf's face. "Forgive me, mellon nin!" He apologized earnestly. The years have changed you Estel, I did not recognize…"

Aragorn said no words but simply stepped forward and clasped his old, lost friend in his arms for a brief few seconds and felt Legolas return his embrace. "I am so sorry, Estel." The elf murmured and Aragorn detected the edge of guilt in his fair voice. "I thought you to be a bounty hunter."

"Ú-moe edhored, Legolas." _There is nothing to forgive._ He released the slender warrior and stepped back, holding him at arm's length and looking him up and down. "Nothing about you has changed," He laughed, feeling more lighthearted than he had in days.

A small incongruous frown crossed the elf's face but the prince shook it off with a smile as he bent to retrieve his bow and arrow lying lightly upon the snow. "When you are among the immortal you quickly forget that a lifetime for other creatures is as fleeting as a summer breeze," He sighed. Aragorn knew that he was not imagining the weariness in the elf's voice and when Legolas straightened he noticed the telltale dark rings underneath slightly bloodshot eyes. "It seems like only yesterday's memory that we were in Rivendell and I was teaching you how to hold a bow," Legolas continued almost wistfully, oblivious to Aragorn's passive scrutiny, "I imagine it must be a shadowy memory for you, Aragorn," He said making a slight face as he rolled the unfamiliar name around on his tongue. "So many years have passed that I suppose that is your name now."

Aragorn shook his head with a rueful smile. "The men call me Strider, but Lord Elrond and Elladan and Elrohir still call me Estel…"

At the mention of the twin's names the same emotions of dread and tension flitted across Legolas's face that Aragorn had heard in his voice.

"They are who you seek…" Legolas said softly.

"Yes," Aragorn confirmed gravely and looked around the darkening mountainside. The flurry of snow had stopped and the sun was beginning to slip beneath the pearly sheen of the sea in the distance.

"I am as well. We received a plea from Lord Elrond to send out search parties in Mirkwood," Legolas trailed off. "I decided to search here though."

"Why?" Aragorn asked, curious as to why the Prince would travel so far away from his homeland when a handful of elves from Rivendell and Lorien were supposedly already searching the mountains.

Legolas paused, glancing at the ground before he answered. "I have been having dreams," he admitted. His blue eyes met Aragorn's and the intensity in them was such that Aragorn felt rooted to the snowy ground. "And there is not much time left," He added simply.

Before Aragorn could ask what he meant, the elf turned away and treaded determinedly across the surface of the snow. "Come now," he called. "It grows dark and 'tis dangerous to be out wandering in these mountains when there is no light."

Shocked with the new information of Legolas's apparent insights, and the rampage of contrasting emotions that had overwhelmed him in the last twenty minutes, Aragorn forced his cold and weary limbs to move and slowly waded after the figure of a newly reclaimed friend into the falling darkness.

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End file.
